


To Build a Home

by RosebudRegiment



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Married Life, Post-War, canonverse, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28968522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosebudRegiment/pseuds/RosebudRegiment
Summary: Post-war. Mikasa's unwell, and Levi's determined to get to the bottom of it.
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Levi
Comments: 26
Kudos: 146





	To Build a Home

“Sorry, we’re closed for the rest of the day.”  
  
The elderly customer paused his ascent of the small staircase leading to the shop front, noticeably vexed by what was sure to be day-altering news.  
  
“Why… it’s not yet _noon!_ And your sign says that you’re open ’til five o’clock!” He complained, gesturing offendedly at the aforementioned sign post beside the staircase that, indeed, read: _Ackerman’s - Tea & Confectionary; Business hours: Monday-Friday, 10am-5pm.  
  
_Levi fixed the man with an hardened stare.  
  
He’d never really had much tolerance for whining, and wasn’t about to try winning any medals now, but owing to the fact that this _was_ an exceptional circumstance, as well as the fact he’d already received enough admonishments from Mikasa for his "uninviting” table service on a number of occasions, he decided it best to at least swallow the _deal-with-its_ and _tough-shit-old-mans_ this time in favour of maintaining their business reputation. _  
  
“_ So _very_ sorry to inconvenience you, _kind sir_ ,” Levi may as well have gagged. “But, you see… my wife isn’t in the best condition today, and, well… I’m afraid you’re better off coming back another time. My brewing skills just _don’t_ compare," he explained, all the while pondering which tea would be best to burn the obsequious aftertaste off his tongue.  
  
To his relief, the customer visibly relaxed.  
  
“Oh, that’s _no_ problem at all, young man,” the man assured, laughing it off with a wave. “ _Women_ , huh? What’d we be without them?” He winked. “You take care, now. I’ll try again on Thursday.”  
  
“Much appreciated, sir. ’Til then.”  
  
Levi let out a sigh when the man disappeared down the footpath into town, and then resumed his task of locking the entry gate. He'd been trying to shoo their remaining customers as inconspicuously as possible for the last ten minutes, and had to work quickly before-  
  
“-Levi?” Mikasa asked disapprovingly from behind him, nearly causing him to jump. He glanced at her. As expected, she was still clad in her apron. She crossed her arms as a bemused expression settled against her face. “What are you _doing?_ ”  
  
“What it looks like,” he answered simply, pocketing the key before escorting her inside, a hand at her back.  
  
“But it’s only half past _eleven!_ ” she protested, which only perturbed Levi all the more. “When have we _ever_ closed this early?”  
  
“You’ve been acting out of sorts today,” he noted unhappily, assessing her for any other peculiarities he might've missed. “And I’m not about to let you put _salt_ in a customer’s tea again,” he said flatly. “You’re clearly tired." _  
  
_At least, he _hoped_ that’s all it was. From the moment they opened that morning, she’d been mishearing things, snapping at customers, mixing up, and even _dropping_ orders. Granted, some of those behaviours were characteristic for her time of month, but after that last ceramic shattered on the ground, he was left with no other choice than to step in.  
  
Mikasa sighed in annoyance, rolling her eyes as she did so. “I’m _fine_.”  
  
Levi groaned and stalked into the kitchen. They were both clearly destined to have this argument for the rest of their lives, stubborn as they were. “Even so, I’m _still_ closing up. Yesterday was busy enough. We can afford a break every now and then," he said, not missing the way she gawped at him before he crouched down to retrieve a dish trough from under the counter.   
  
“My… you’ve gone _soft_ , Captain,” she teased with his old title, something she only used specifically for that purpose. “What ever happened to: ‘work or be worked?’”  
  
Levi rose, supplies in hand, to find her leaning suggestively over the counter, a lewd smirk on her lips as she looked up at him.   
  
Blinking, he set down the dish trough. Half an hour ago, she had nearly bitten his head off after he playfully pinched her ass when a customer wasn't looking, and now she looked like she wanted him to frisk her. _“Women" is right, old man._  
  
“In _this_ case, exceptions can be made,” he said humourlessly, quickly rekindling Mikasa’s frustration. His gut, however, told him not give in this time, despite the way that apron looked against the tantalising curve of her body. The woman would work in a _storm_ if she could (one of the many endearing qualities she possessed), and so he had to move quickly before she nicked the gate key off him.  
  
“Well, then. I’m going to pack up outside,” she said, entering the kitchen, a scowl on her face and an unmistakable - and quite deliberate - huff in her tone.  
  
Levi reached for her arm and gently redirected her towards one of the cleaner tables nearby. “No - let me. You just rest,” he instructed, dragging out a chair with his foot and then reaching to grab a cup and a pitcher of water from the refreshment cart.   
  
“I’m not an _invalid,_ ” she shot back, stepping around him. She swiped the dish trough from the counter. “And _no way_ am I just going to _watch_ while you pack up by yourself,” she said, half-stomping her way out onto the veranda that allowed full view of the forest beyond.  
  
With pitcher in hand, he was left to watch her through the window as she began clearing tables. “Once a stubborn brat, _always_ a stubborn brat,” he muttered, equal parts fond and irritated as he shook his head. Supposing there was no point in reasoning with her, he set to work on clearing and wiping down the surfaces inside, begrudgingly allowing his suspicions to fade with every passing minute.  
  
He was halfway through wiping down the service counter when he caught Mikasa waving at him in his peripherals, a triumphant smirk on her face.  
  
He chuckled. A full dish trough rested atop the table that housed the very last chair she was putting away. He gave her an incredulous smile, over which he would later berate himself for letting his guard down, for no more than five seconds elapsed before Mikasa was clutching at her forehead and teetering to the side, barely managing to grip the table for balance before she collapsed on the floor against it.   
  
His rag fell from his hand as he rushed out to meet her, panic surging through him as he gathered her into his arms. She sagged against him. “Levi?” She asked in a daze, her gaze unfocused.  
  
“I’m calling a doctor,” he said resolutely, wrapping an arm around to steady her. Stupid woman was going to give him an heart attack.  


**Author's Note:**

> Just a little idea I had a couple weeks ago. Stay tuned for more ;)


End file.
